The Birthday Party

Three star chefs (and ELLE alums) cook us up a celebratory dinner for our quarter century and dish on the fashion of food, then and now. Ruth Reichl takes notes

When ELLE arrived stateside 25 years ago, along with its modern perspective on style, it also imported the French media's ahead-of-the-curve food coverage. Pre–Food Network and dining blogs, ELLE reserved an unprecedented number of gorgeously art-directed pages for cuisine culture. There were even tear-out recipe cards! To celebrate our birthday and our ongoing love for the art of eating, we invited a star trio, who, as still nascent luminaries, cooked for these pages decades ago, to reinvent those recipes and create a feast that represents who they, and we, are today: fresh, ever-changing, delicious.

But they have changed, these three great chefs, in the 20-odd years since they first created recipes for ELLE's lush food section. When the magazine covered him in 1991, Jean-Georges Vongerichten had just opened his first restaurant, the minuscule JoJo, in New York City, hoping that his reputation for making French food lighter by replacing butter and cream with vegetable stocks would bring customers flocking. Had you told him he'd become the head of a vast restaurant empire—Jean Georges, Spice Market, ABC Kitchen, and so on—he would have said you were insane.

In 1993, Eric Ripert's destiny as a major media star and Top Chef judge was also far in the future; newly arrived at New York's Le Bernardin, he was helping legendary chef Gilbert Le Coze change the way restaurants served fish. "Gilbert was a purist," Ripert says. "For him, fish was so delicate and sacred, he didn't even want to cook it." Nobody could have foreseen that Le Coze would soon die, tragically young, of a heart attack in 1994, leaving Ripert to carry his torch with his sister Maguy Le Coze and make Le Bernardin The New York Times' current longest-running four-star restaurant.

And in 1991, the remarkably sensual menu at Bouley had already transformed New York's food sensibility, but David Bouley had yet to discover the Japanese aesthetic that would transform his own. "The purity of Japan will change the world," he says now—and the others nod in agreement.

In the intervening years, each chef has had a profound effect on the way we eat. "I came from France in 1986," says Vongerichten, "to cook French food. But I looked around and thought, This food's too rich; the meals too long; the Italian restaurants are packed—we have to change."

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They took their French training and turned it inside out. In France, technique was everything, but in America, they began putting ingredients first. And when the ingredients didn't exist, they changed that, too. "In those days," Vongerichten says, "the farmers would come into your restaurant with seed catalogs: `What do you want us to grow for you next year?' "

Now the ingredients they requested—lemongrass, heirloom apples, black currants, baby beets—are widely available, and the competition to invent the latest, coolest cookery is intense. The four of us sat down to sample the spectacular dishes they created when we asked them to envision an ELLE twenty-fifth-anniversary dinner party menu and to talk about how things were, how they've changed, and where they're going, in the obsessed-over world of haute food.

ELLE: How have restaurants changed since you came here from France in the '80s?

Eric Ripert: The position of the chef [here] has changed a lot. It was like a mini revolution. In Paris, I worked with Joël Robuchon, and if you are coming to Robuchon, you will eat what Robuchon gives you. And you shut up, as a client.

David Bouley: It was so different back then in New York City. People used to walk in thinking they were going to tell the waiter what [I should] cook for them.

Jean-Georges Vongerichten: Really, it was Le Bernardin that changed things.

JGV: [Le Coze] would die before he made something he did not want to cook.

DB: He was very progressive....

ER: Now the client comes to you because they like your style. And young eaters are adventurous and curious. They come in for an experience.

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DB: They challenge you.

ER: And at the same time, they don't mind being challenged.

ELLE: Have prices changed?

JGV: At the time, there were only a few fine-dining restaurants. Five, six, seven. Now there is more competition. I was doing more expensive food in 1988 than I'm doing now. At the first New York restaurant I worked in, Lafayette, the tasting menu was $150; today at Jean Georges it's $148.

ER: That's pretty interesting when you consider how the prices have gone up. Back then, you could buy sea bass for $2.50 a pound; today it's $8 or $9.

ELLE: How have ingredients changed?

JGV: Everything is so much more eclectic. I discovered grains in New York. In France, the only grain I knew was wheat. When ELLE asked me to do recipes [in the early '90s], I had a Jewish girlfriend, so I thought I'd make a variation of kasha varnishkes.

ER: New York is so cosmopolitan, with so many different nationalities; you're getting inspired by the Koreans, the Irish, the Japanese, the Jewish, and the Latinos.

DB: Robuchon was using soy sauce in 1981, you remember? No other French chef was doing that. Now everybody does.

JGV: Soy sauce and butter—it's the best sauce in the world. Bring a spoonful of each to a boil and add lime juice.

ELLE: How will we eat in the future?

ER: Molecular gastronomy is dead. Our generation is all about the primacy of ingredients. Things keep getting lighter. Escoffier [the early-twentieth-century chef who remade French cooking] meant to make food lighter by replacing meat stocks with butter and cream. Then nouvelle cuisine came along, trying to make food lighter by taking away the butter and cream. And then, Jean-Georges, you made it lighter with the vegetable juices. Today, there's the Japanese influence, making the food lighter again.

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ELLE: Okay, last question: Women in the kitchen? Has that changed?

DB: It's totally a coed environment now. That macho thing? It's over.

JGV: They do come, the women, but they don't stay; the drop-off is enormous. It's very hard to be a mom and a chef.

DB: It requires a lot of sacrifice. But I notice that women understand complex things faster than some of the guys. They get it like that, in a second. It's amazing.

Lisa Hubbard

The Appetizer: David Bouley Prepares a Malibu Sea Urchin Terrine

Bouley is a known obsessive who likes to work solo. While running the kitchen at the multistarred Montrachet in the mid-'80s, he had a dustup with restaurateur Drew Nieporent and broke free to be the boss at Bouley, then later started a groundbreaking test kitchen. His current fixation, other than personally manning the stoves at the reopened Bouley, is Japan. (His next project, Boji, is soon to open in NYC.) Both his 1991 recipe for ELLE and its revision are an original version of a terrine, and each uses luxury ingredients and textural contrast. But unlike the foie gras–stuffed apple, which looks to France, this version owes its debt to Japan. Bouley is using sea urchin roe—as rich, soft, and splendid as foie—encasing it not in apple, but in a lightly gelled stock. The result is every bit as decadent—but so much lighter.

Directions: Prepare the dashi gelatin by gently heating the dashi with the soy sauce, mirin, and sake. Soften the gelatin sheets in enough cold water to cover, about 15 minutes. Remove gelatin and squeeze out any excess water and add to the hot dashi. Gently stir until melted. Pour into the terrine mold. Leave at room temperature, and when the gelatin is almost set, place the sea urchin into the terrine. Refrigerate until firm.

Directions: Fill a medium-size pot with 1 quart (1L) cold water and put in the kelp. Heat, uncovered, and bring to just below the boiling point (about 10 minutes). IMPORTANT: Kelp emits a strong odor if it is boiled, so remove kombu just before water boils.

Insert your thumbnail into the fleshiest part of the kelp. If it is soft, sufficient flavor has been obtained. If tough, return it to the pot for 1 or 2 minutes. Keep from boiling by adding approximately 1/4 cup cold water if necessary. After removing the kombu, bring the stock to a full boil. Add 1/4 cup cold water to bring the temperature down quickly, and immediately add the bonito flakes. No need to stir. Bring to a full boil and remove from the heat at once. If bonito flakes boil more than a few seconds, the stock becomes too strong and a bit bitter, and it is not suitable for use in the terrine. Allow the flakes to start to settle to the bottom of the pot (30 seconds to 1 minute). Skim foam, then filter through a cheesecloth-lined sieve.

CHIVE OIL

Ingredients: 3/4 c chives 1/2 c neutral oil salt, pepper

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Directions: Place chopped chives in a blender with a neutral oil and puree until smooth. Season with salt and pepper. Keep refrigerated.

When Vongerichten was featured in ELLE in 1992, he'd recently opened JoJo, the Upper East Side temple to the marriage of lighter, clearer French cooking with Asian flavors. Now the Alsatian master chef runs a megabrand, with restaurants from Bora Bora to Las Vegas, including his latest, NYC's ABC Kitchen, where he's putting his swank touch on the locavore ethos to drooling reviews (just try getting a rezzie!). Back in the '90s, he proselytized about the merits of unexpected grains: quinoa, amaranth, and even kasha varnishkes, a Jewish classic of bow-tie pasta with buckwheat oats. In his modern take on the dish, adorable little meatballs replace slices of veal. It's his chic nod to this meatball moment—the first time in history they've made the leap to haute cuisine.

Directions: Combine all the ingredients except the water in a mixer fitted with a dough hook. Process until the dough comes together, adding a few drops of water as needed just to make a smooth dough and no more. Knead for 9 minutes. Remove from the bowl, wrap tightly in plastic wrap, and let rest at room temperature for 30 minutes. Roll out through a pasta machine, passing it twice through number one. Cut into 12" sheets, then into 1" strips. Using the crimper, cut into 1 1/2" pieces. Pinch in the middle to form bow ties. Toss in semolina flour to keep it from sticking, and refrigerate.

Directions: Mix veal, parsley, and rosemary in a bowl, working it with a rubber spatula for 3 minutes. Combine with sour cream, pepper, lemon zest, pecorino, salt, and egg yolk. In a separate bowl, whisk the egg whites to a soft peak. Fold into the meat mixture and portion into meatballs a little smaller than a golf ball. Handle gently. Should make around 28.

Directions: Cook the onions in extra virgin olive oil until well caramelized. Add the garlic, and sweat for 3 minutes. Add the white wine and reduce until glazy. Add the reduced chicken stock and reduce by a third. Add the sherry vinegar, salt, and pepper. Cool and reserve.

Directions: Bring the water to a boil in a small saucepan. Add the salt and kasha. Cover and simmer 7-10 minutes, until the kasha is cooked. Remove from saucepan and allow to air dry. In a sauté pan, heat the extra virgin olive oil. Add kasha and sauté until crunchy. Transfer to a paper¬¬∫ or tea towel∫ lined tray to remove excess oil. Season with salt, and reserve. For the final pick-up (that's chef for putting it all together) you'll also need sour cream, about 1/4 cup chopped parsley, and grated whole nutmeg. In a small sauté pan, brown the meatballs on all sides. In separate pot cook the pasta in boiling salted water for about 3-4 minutes. In a large sauté pan, heat up the sauce and add the steamed kasha and meatballs. Add the cooked pasta and toss gently but well. Divide among four large bowls and top with a dollop of sour cream, finely grated nutmeg, and chopped parsley.

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Lisa Hubbard

The Dessert: Eric Ripert Prepares a Stuffed Poached Pear

Ripert had been working at the fanciest fish parlor in Manhattan, Le Bernardin, for only two years when he was featured in a 1993 ELLE story about desserts reminiscent of modern art. Unlike many celeb toques, this likable Top Chef judge has kept his focus on the same restaurant over the years, and Le Bernardin continues to be the chowhounds' "at least once in a lifetime" mecca. Consistently great and ever evolving, Ripert has pared down his '90s poached pear for today. Back then, it was all about towers and Pollock splashes. Now that ingredients are such high quality, simplicity is all. So he took away the ostentatious tuile and the lily-gilding chocolate sauce to offer one in-season pear stuffed with dried fruits and bathed in a light caramel wine sauce. Sublime.

Directions: Combine fresh apple and pineapple in one small bowl and the dried fruits and pistachio nuts in a second bowl. Melt butter in a medium sauté pan over high heat. Just as butter begins to brown, add the apple and pineapple, along with the sugar, cinnamon, and star anise. Reduce heat to low and continue to cook, stirring, until fruit begins to soften. Add the dried fruit and pistachios, nutmeg, and vanilla. Cook for another 2 to 3 minutes, or until the dried fruit has begun to absorb the cooking juices. Remove from heat and allow to cool.

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RED WINE CARAMEL

Ingredients: 3/4 c granulated sugar 1/4 c water 1/2 c red wine

Directions: Combine the sugar and water in a small saucepan. Over high heat, cook the sugar to a medium amber color. Meanwhile, in a second pan, gently heat the red wine. When the sugar has a reached the correct color, remove from heat and slowly add the red wine. Return to heat and cook to dissolve any hardened bits of sugar. Continue to reduce until a slightly thickened consistency is achieved.

Directions: Combine all the ingredients, except the pears, in a large saucepan. Bring to a boil. Add the pears and reduce heat to low, allowing the pears to gently poach for about 10 minutes, or just until tender. Remove from heat and allow the pears to cool in the poaching liquid. Remove the pears from the liquid and gently remove the core from the stem end with a medium-size melon baller. Stuff each cavity with the fruit-and-nut filling. Preheat oven to 325šF. Place the stuffed pears in a small baking dish and warm in the oven, about 10 to 15 minutes. Remove from the oven and serve immediately. Garnish with extra chopped pistachios and the red wine caramel.

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